the spaces between worlds
by thebookhobbit
Summary: Sometimes Ponder thinks about Rincewind. And one universe's thoughts are another universe's realities. Ponder/Rincewind. Could be regarded as a prequel to Trouser Legs.


I told myself I wasn't going to write more of this pairing for fear of developing A Reputation, but I wanted to explore their dynamic a little (which I didn't really, so more may be forthcoming) and Ponder's thoughts on the matter as well. This is pretty unpolished; I wrote it on the road to last weekend instead of being sensible and doing my essay or else working on one of the other Discworld AUs I've got going. Feel free, therefore, to offer suggestions about fixing it up.

Also many thanks to Prongs. . .And Padfoot Too for the kind review and interest in seeing this!

* * *

There's something lost about Rincewind that that Ponder can never manage to grasp; something that says he's never been at home and never will be, something about him that seems awkward and out of place no matter where he is.

Ponder thinks he can feel the reflection of it in himself. He has the HEM building, but what does Rincewind have? There's the Library, and it's true that he seems to get along very well with the Librarian, but even there he seems jumpy and not quite at ease. Rincewind, he thinks, has never found a place to belong.

They had hardly spoken before the Roundworld incident, but after that, well, the globe itself was kept on a shelf in Rincewind's study and sometimes Ponder likes to look at it sometimes. Which means going to see Rincewind.

This had eventually lead to talking to Rincewind. First about Roundworld, then about other things. His experiments, sometimes. Although Rincewind doesn't really understand Ponder's work, he does seem to be hiding a surprisingly logical mind, which Ponder appreciates. It's not like talking to the Senior Wizards at all. It's also not like talking to his students, who understand HEX insofar as that's possible. It's...more like talking to a friend in a different field.

At some point, Rincewind goes from feeling like a friend to actually being one.

Sometimes he wanders down to the HEM building and sometimes Ponder talks him into testing his experiments; Rincewind complains and threatens and says he's going to die and it'll be Ponder's fault, but Ponder always takes care not to put him in danger. Well, not in too much danger.

And he turns out to have the kind of common sense which, honestly, is somewhat needed in Ponder's line of work. Someone to ask difficult questions like, "yes, but what are you going to do with a five-golem treadmill when you're not powering HEX with it?" without being condescending. Because sometimes they need fresh eyes that know nothing about the given problem, and sometimes Rincewind is willing to provide them.

One night they're both falling-down drunk and Rincewind slurs out a confession, about _I always liked you, y'know, you're the only one around here with any sense._ And, _you thing about...think about thingss, you don't just do stuff because it's what everyone's always done before. I always wanted magic to be sennn...sensible and it never was but you're making it_.

Even though it's delivered with too many drink-induced pauses and not enough eye contact Ponder is touched. He thanks Rincewind and Rincewind shrugs, and glances up at him, meets his eyes for the first time since he'd started his little speech.

For a second, Ponder has the absurd notion Rincewind's about to kiss him, but in typical Rincewind fashion, he doesn't go through with it, just looks a Ponder a little longer than is strictly necessary. Then he shakes his head and looks away again, like he's trying to clear his head of some idea he doesn't want. Ponder doesn't know if he's relieved or disappointed.

Rincewind doesn't seem to remember; Ponder never brings it up, although he thinks about a lot. Increasingly he thinks about how he'd have reacted if Rincewind had kissed him. Drunk, his filters would have been down. He wouldn't have been able to put up a polite front either way. The overwhelming emotion, he decides, would have been surprise; not only that Rincewind wanted to kiss him, but that he'd gathered up the necessary courage and fortitude.

Which is all quite futile, because he has no proof that Rincewind was trying to do any such thing. The entire debate is hypothetical.

It's just that it's been such a long time since anyone wanted to kiss Ponder.

He's had crushes, on several occasions; early in life on children at school, later on his fellow wizards (or wizards in training, as it were). But they all somehow seemed unattainable: too popular or too beautiful or too outgoing, never the sort who ought to be content with someone like Ponder, someone who spends his life indoors working out problems of time and space and doesn't know how to talk to people. Ponder's pleased with how his life has turned out, more or less, but sometimes it's a little lonely.

So he thinks it's understandable that sometimes his thoughts wander in this direction, even though it's probably not a good idea.

Rincewind is older than Ponder by a good ten years, although compared to the senior wizards this isn't very much. He is not pretty: he is skinny, all elbows and knees and ribs, and covered in scars. He has a large nose and a thin mouth and in fact he looks a little like weather-beaten, scruffy rat. He has a permanently glum, hunted look and dark circles that don't seem to go away no matter how much he sleeps. He's got terrible posture and a scraggly attempt at a beard.

His disposition, too, is not the best. He's not cheerful or friendly; he's gloomy and cynical and twitchy, and he very clearly wants nothing more than to be left alone. He's not even particularly intelligent.

Ponder knows all this very well.

It never seems to stop his wandering thoughts.

He never speculates that maybe Rincewind's thoughts might be wandering too. Not, that is, until they get drunk again.

It seems somewhat unhealthy that their relationship can be tracked as a series of beer-clouded incidents, in fact, but their mutual obliviousness, lack of courage, and deficit of hope keeps both of them from speaking about such matters until the defenses are dropped by chemical means.

Quite late in the evening, Rincewind does kiss Ponder. In the haze of alcohol and confusion Ponder thinks it's a good thing he's considered this option; it allows him to react with less shock than he might otherwise have done. So instead of his prescribed route of stammering and questioning, he kisses back, tangles one hand in Rincewind's straggly hair, lets events shape themselves and takes his brain off the hook for a while. It's good to be kissed even though neither of them is terribly experienced: teeth scraping against each other in clumsy desperation, noses bumping, hands uncertain. Somehow it feels like it's been a long time coming, although Ponder's only been thinking about the possibility for a little while.

And that's when it occurs to him that Rincewind's habit of letting himself be experimented on, his careful way of listening to Ponder's explanation, the fact that he suddenly seems to be reading Ponder's memos – that maybe all these things are Rincewind's silent, hopeless way of telling him. Of explaining. Of demonstrating his desires or intentions.

So Ponder kisses back, and doesn't analyze it too much. That's hard for him, although the alcohol makes it a great deal easier. He keeps having to push away his thoughts. Still, it's worth it. Rincewind's fingers are long and thin and surprisingly gentle; Ponder traces all the scars on his back, trying to read his life's story in them, because he can never quite shake the idea that people are puzzles to be solved.

Neither of them talk about it in the morning: Ponder leaves Rincewind's room and goes back to the HEM building, buries himself in work, tries to forget. Rincewind doesn't come around that day, or the next, nor for a week. But Ponder sees him at dinner one night and, as casually as he can manage, mentions that he's thought of a new way of transmitting magical particles through a human body and could Rincewind come and test it?

Rincewind, with no more than his usual reluctance, agrees.

Which leaves Ponder in something of a strait. He'd been expect a polite, or perhaps not so polite, for refusal. So when Rincewind turns up the next day, Ponder has to admit that he doesn't have anything new.

Rincewind gives him a look of exasperation and asks why on earth Ponder couldn't have come to his study if he wanted to talk; Ponder can't explain that this was a kind of litmus test. Because if his hypothesis is correct, Rincewind lets Ponder run various experiments on him without having to be threatened because Rincewind likes Ponder. If Ponder asks again and Rincewind agrees, then that means Rincewind _still_ likes Ponder, despite their drunken excursion. Or, to put it another way, maybe Rincewind doesn't regret the drunken excursion too much.

So instead, he shrugs. Rincewind, not observant at the best of times, just shakes his head and sighs and says "I'm sorry about the other night."

Ponder tries to explain. He doesn't want an apology. He doesn't know what he wants. Very possibly – and he fumbles, awkward, blushing – very possibly a repeat if Rincewind is amicable. Ponder hadn't even realized this until he'd said it, because his own feelings are one of the things he's not good at analyzing, but he realizes it's true. And the look of disbelief on Rincewind's face is a little bit painful.

"Well?" he says hotly. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"It's not what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

"Dunno." Rincewind half-shrugs. "I wasn't expecting you to talk about it at all. I wasn't. It happens, sometimes. We're wizards. Getting drunk and ending up in bed with your mates is practically a tradition."

"So are actual relationships between two fully-aware consenting wizards," says Ponder, frowning.

"Is that what you're proposing? With me?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I'd like to try it sober, anyway."

Rincewind blinks, shakes his head a little. "You're serious."

"Why not?"

"Well...it's me. I'm practically professionally unlucky. This sort of thing doesn't happen to me."

"It has now," says Ponder shortly, and leans over and kisses him. Just one short kiss on the mouth, to let Rincewind know that he means business. And then he takes a deep breath and adds, "Tonight? I'll be in my room after nine pm. I've got to watch HEX till then."

Rincewind nods, with a stunned look that tells Ponder he still doesn't quite believe him. But near midnight, when Ponder is just about to give up and try to get some sleep, he shows up at Ponder's door.

It's better when they can both see straight enough to undo the fastenings.

And Ponder thinks that maybe this is –

Not fate, never fate.

But there are a hundred million universes out there and maybe, maybe in this one, it can work.


End file.
